


The Spirit of Gravity

by JustinianAugustus



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: F/M, Innuendo, Set in Book 10, Smoking, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 05:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20334535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustinianAugustus/pseuds/JustinianAugustus
Summary: What if Quigley really had been offering Violet a cigarette at the VFD ruins?





	The Spirit of Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of canon-bending, as I've set this after Quigley revealed his identity on the plateau, while the book scene happens slightly earlier.

“No thank you, I don’t smoke,” Violet murmured, holding a hand up in the universal gesture of refusal. A polite denial without any bluster was all it took to conquer vice, or so her mother had always said. Violet remembered walking with her past opium dens where men would lounge in soiled tweed at the end of a pipe, somehow looking transfixed and drowsy all at once.

The little green cigarette box Quigley was holding a few inches from her face was hardly comparable to narcotics, but Violet tread carefully near slippery slopes, as the saying went.

And yet, the magic incantation her mother had taught her seemed to have no effect. The lone cigarette poking out the top of the box didn’t disappear back into a linted pocket, but remained taunting, like something sick and otherworldly in the moonlight.

“That’s what everyone says. Try one!”  
Quigley was all grins now, and even in the dark the twinkling of his wide eyes was enchanting. He radiated a confidence that held the mountain breeze at bay, as if the ashy wind itself were, like Violet, tantalized by his soot-black bangs and knowing smile.

He took a cigarette for himself and fixed it in his lips, letting a fresh one roll into the chamber for Violet to consider. In that moment, with the stars overhead and a swoon in her soul, he could have been inviting her for Russian Roulette and she wouldn’t refuse.

“I don’t know…” she continued to mutter, though the cigarette was already in her fingers.  
“I don’t think it’s a very good habit to start,” she added, more firmly now.

But at that very moment he ignited a silver zippo and their faces were both washed with warm color again: her nose a quivering bridge of light; his flushed cheeks and brow now dancing with life. The flame swaggered, almost snuffed by a sudden gust, but sprung back as Quigley lit his cigarette, and Violet realized that in light and dark alike he looked beautiful.

“Go on,” he prodded, as Violet nervously inspected his gift. There was a brand stamped on it in fancy lettering, but between the flickering darkness and the blackletter font she couldn’t make it out.  
“It’s the best way to feel warm, you’ll see. Or, second best way, perhaps,” he added with a mischievous bob of his eyebrows. Violet blushed deeply, hoping the cold air and the darkness would hide it. At length she placed the cigarette between her lips as she had seen Quigley do, rolled it back and forth ever so slightly to get the feel. The dyed paper wrapping certainly didn’t taste very good, but in a moment the lighter was under the far end, Quigley’s hand gently shielding it from the volatile air.

“There you go. Breathe it in!”

Violet wasn’t sure she was doing it correctly, because she immediately broke into a fit of coughing that was neither warm nor pleasant. All she could think of for a moment was Mr. Poe and his endless hacking.

As revolting as it was, there was a certain familiarity to cigarette smoke that was preferable to the queasiness of ice and stone, like Quigley had smuggled a little square of her home city up into the desolate mountain plateau. The adoration written on his face was more than enough, too, to make her try another hit, this time coughing a bit less and returning a sheepish smile of resignation.

“Now you can’t say ‘I don’t smoke’ anymore,” Quigley joked, putting an arm around her. In all the exhausting duration of the night, all the tribulations that overflowed her mind, and with such an incredible ally at last, she finally understood how one could be transfixed and drowsy at the same time.


End file.
